The canal was, Elorie explained, just as old as the pyramids they were going to see. Which meant it was thousands of years old, and still in excellent condition.

At least, the part near the town was. Nearly twice as wide as the Wanderlust, with straight, well maintained stone walls. It wasn't until the second day that they saw why Elorie had said they couldn't take the Wanderlust.

"The stories say it was an earthquake," Elorie explained. "Little ones are common enough in this part of Alvara, but it must have been a big one."

The skeletons of ancient buildings stood on either side of the canal. Collapsed walls slanted into the water, and entire buildings lay across the canal, creating an obstacle course that would have ripped out the bottom of the Wanderlust. Tanden and Soren stowed the Waterborne's sails and used oars to maneuver around the rubble.

There was a sort of sad beauty to the ruins. As he helped row, Tanden saw fish darting between the underwater rubble. Turtles sunned themselves on bits of walls. Long-legged birds strolled in the shallows. On the banks of the canal, trees grew through gaping roofs and windows, and ferns coated crumbling walls.

They rowed between the struts of what had once been a large bridge. Soren had to pull down the mast so it wouldn't get caught in hanging vines. Tanden moved to help him lift it back into place once they had cleared the bridge, and left Jale to work his oar.

Jale asked the question Tanden was thinking. "Do you know if the city was ruined after people had already left?"

Elorie wasn't helping. She sat at the back of the Waterborne, arms comfortably draped over the sides, trailing her fingers in the water. She shrugged. "I don't know. Whoever made this, and the pyramids, maybe they weren't even Alvarian. It was so long ago. Alvarians don't build like this anymore. Every city like this I've ever heard of is in ruins."

Tanden pressed his shoulder against the mast, steadying it while Soren finished with the latches that held it in place. "There are more?"

"I've never seen any others," Elorie said. "I've only heard about them. They're all around Southern Alvara, in the mountains or lost to the jungles. This is the only one on a waterway, I think."

"What about the bridge in the canyon?" Soren asked.

"There might be ruins." Elorie said. "I don't know."

Tanden took his oar from Jale and continued working. "Pre-Alvarian? That's fascinating. There are pyramids in Deorun. I wonder if they're related somehow." He and Soren steered the Waterborne around a line of rubble that looked like it may have been a watchtower. As they came around the other side, the canal took a sharp turn.

The next section of canal was not quite clear of rubble, but it was not nearly as clogged. Tanden thought they could probably lower one of the sails, at least partially, and he was about to call the order out to Soren when something at the very end of the canal caught his eye.

From their distance, it looked like the canal ended at an enormous staircase, the steps sized for giants. But as Tanden's eyes followed the steps up, the outline of the building, partially hidden by trees, came into focus. And once he knew what shape he was looking for, he saw two more, on either side of the canal.

Three pyramids. Massive structures, with stepped sides instead of the smooth Deoran pyramids. Each was topped with a rectangular building that looked a lot like the temples they had seen in Balagaya and Danilaex.

Like the ruins along the canal, each pyramids was covered with vegetation. Trees and hanging vines, ferns and bushes. At first glance there was no visible damage from the earthquake, but they looked sturdy enough to weather anything.

"Captain, I think we can lower the—"

Soren suddenly went silent. As everyone noticed the pyramids, an awed silence hung over the Waterborne. They drifted slowly down the canal, and Tanden had just enough awareness of their surroundings to dig his oar into the water and steer.

Other architecture became visible as they floated closer. Steps down to the water, coated in moss. Raised platforms, pieces of walls. Everything being consumed by the jungle.

"What was this?" Tanden broke the silence with a whisper. Anything louder felt disrespectful.

"Zoataxali is a city of legends," Elorie said. "The first city Itzate made for humans to live in. People believe this was Zoataxali, but I don't think there's any way to know for sure."

"It's stunning," Tanden said.

"Hmm. It is," Elorie agreed. "There's a way into the biggest pyramid. I assume you—"

"Yes," Tanden interrupted eagerly.

***

Where it seemed like the canal stopped abruptly in front of the central pyramid, it actually split. Elorie explained that they would continue following the canal to circle back to the Danil River, but first, they rowed the Waterborne to the edge of the canal. Plenty of roots made perfect places to tie off the boat. They climbed out onto the damp stone steps carefully. Tanden first, then he and Soren helped everyone else before Soren clasped Tanden's hand and pulled himself out of the boat.

Elorie led the way, a long knife in her hand to cut away vines and branches that blocked their way. Soren took up the rear, left hand resting on the cutlass on his belt, and a bag of torches slung over his shoulder.

There wasn't really a trail to follow. The jungle had swallowed up any paths that may have once existed. Elorie made the trail as she led them up the front of the pyramid. Trees, branches and roots made climbing the huge steps possible, but still difficult. More than once, Soren had to give Jale and Ara boosts.

But finally their destination was in front of them. A black doorway. If there had ever been a door, it was long gone, leaving a rectangular hole in the wall of the pyramid.

"The torches," Elorie said.

Soren took out the three torches. One went to Elorie, and one to Tanden. Soren gave Jale the flint striker, knowing she was going to be the most successful with it. Her job as a ranger wouldn't have been possible without some skill at fire-starting.

It took Jale no time at all to get all three torches lit. Elorie stepped into the yawning doorway, and started down a staircase. Tanden followed her, and Soren once again stayed at the back.

Ara and Jale, without torches of their own, moved carefully down the stairs. Soren's torch threw their flickering shadows up on the wall.

"Does this remind you of the Caro mines?" Jale asked. The walls seemed to absorb her voice.

"It's much warmer," Tanden replied from further ahead.

"Let's not reminisce," Soren said. And truthfully, the tunnel didn't remind him too much of the mines. Instead of narrow stone walls, they were walking down a wide corridor, between meticulously placed bricks. The damp, humid air from outside was drying out the further they walked, as opposed to the mine's damp chill.

Up ahead, Elorie and Tanden stepped into a large space. Their torches no longer lit up the walls around them. A moment later, Jale, Ara and Soren caught up, entering a large rectangular room.

Some sunlight filtered down from above, through windows choked with plants. A raised dais in the center of the room held a single throne-like chair. It was richly decorated, but paled in comparison to the walls.

Paintings covered all four walls entirely, and they seemed to be telling a story. Soren recognized Axmazi, walking with a jaguar at her side. But nothing else was familiar. Symbols surrounded the paintings, creating borders around different scenes.

"What's it about?" he asked.

"We can interpret the drawings," Elorie said. "But the symbols—the writing—nobody can read it."

Tanden pointed to a painting near the top of the wall. The woman Soren thought was Axmazi stood, surrounded by blood. Other figures lay face down in the blood. "Axmazi, defeating her enemies? Is there a story about a godly war?"

"Yes," Elorie said. "Countless versions. Every town and city has their own spin on the story. The gods' home was being attacked, so Axmazi rallied the others and led them out to fight. The gods destroyed their enemies, and when Axmazi found the leader of the enemies, she decided to take him prisoner."

Soren's gaze went to the next picture. Axmazi with a pale-skinned, blond man. Just like the decapitated head in Balagaya. "Isn't that her husband? The one she killed?"

"Praxel," Tanden supplied the name. "Praxel was the leader of her enemies? So she captured him. He was a prisoner?"

"He was her enemy and her lover," Elorie said. "You know the rest of the story, about killing him and changing him into a jaguar. And their son, Itzate." She held up her torch, illuminating a painting of the friendly god, standing in front of a stepped pyramid exactly like the one they were inside. "This the story we know. The stories on the other walls are different. Older, maybe. Lost to time." She walked to the next section of wall, lighting up another story.

The main character was a woman with a snake-like tail instead of legs. In one image, she was swimming. In another, she was holding a long spear. "I've never heard any stories about her," Elorie said. "Nobody knows these things."

"And this writing..." Tanden reached out like he was going to touch the images that made up the border, but instead just let his hand hover over the paint. "Could these be more detailed versions of current Alvarian ideograms? Maybe the symbols used to look more like what they represented, and they've become more stylized." He looked up, gaze flickering between everyone else. When his eyes met Soren's, Soren shrugged. If he didn't understand what Tanden had said, he doubted anyone else would.

"There are different kinds of writing," Tanden said. "Phonemic alphabets are used in Navire to Tallen Tiya. Four distinct ones. Teltish, Morcean, Tallenese and Ancient Ziannan. That name is misleading, but it's what we call the alphabet Navire, Deorun and Zianna use. Those were the easiest for me to learn. Moattish is a consonant alphabet. Shani and Staedish use syllabic alphabets. I won't get into the differences, but they're different enough that it's trickier for me. But Alvarian is unique, and uses pictograms—symbols that represent whole words. Chances are the symbols used to look more like what they represented, and they've been simplified.

Jale spoke up with the type of friendly taunt only a good friend could get away with. "So you actually do know what you're talking about."

"Of course I do. I studied languages. I'm good at them."

"So you think you can read these?" Elorie asked.

"Me? No." Tanden shook his head. "I can't read Alvarian yet. Speaking always comes easier to me. But if someone who could read it really studied these images, I'm sure they could figure out some of it. Nothing ever translates perfectly, of course, but bits and pieces could probably be loosely understood."

Elorie stepped closer to the wall to inspect one of the drawings. "Maybe..." She mimed drawing a symbol over the drawing, a look of deep concentration on her face.

"Interested in a career change?" Tanden asked. "Elorie-Dell sounds lovely."

Elorie shook her head. "Even if I was interested, I can't change my muxil. I already decided." She took a step backwards, away from the wall. "I don't believe any of this magical history. But the stories are part of our real history, and that would be interesting to know. Maybe one day, a language expert will figure out these stories and bring them back to our culture. Now, would you like to see something else outside?"

Tanden looked around, taking in the paintings a final time before nodding. "Absolutely."

He was the first to follow Elorie back up the stairs. Jale and Ara stuck close to Soren as he held his torch up high the light the steps.

"Different types of writing," Jale said, only just loud enough for the three of them to hear. "How can anyone have all of that information in their head and still have room for more?"

Soren chuckled. "I wonder that every time he learns a new language. But it goes to show that he isn't just good at picking up languages, he studied how they work. When he was younger he was being trained to be an ambassador."

"An ambassador?" Ara asked. "Sitting in meeting rooms? That does not sound like him."

"Not at all," Soren agreed.

They went silent as they continued climbing up the steep stairs. Once back outside, Soren collected the extinguished torches. Elorie pulled out her long knife once again, and started walking along the side of the pyramid, as if the platform they were on was a road.

"Last time I was here," she said, between hacking away at the surrounding plants, "there was a path up to the top."

"When was that?" Tanden asked.

"Ten years ago?" Elorie guessed. "The view from the top is incredible, but even better, a group of monkeys lived in the temple house at the top. They might still be there. Ah, this might be the path..." She hacked through a thick mess of vines, and once she had cleared enough, ducked to get under the rest.

They all followed her. This close, it was often hard to tell that they were climbing a pyramid. Dirt and debris had collected on the structure over the thousands of years it had been standing, making it seem more like a mountain. The only places that looked manmade were the straight edges of walls, and visible bricks where foliage hadn't grown thickly enough to cover it. The shape of the pyramid was only recognizable from a distance.

Until they climbed higher than the canopy of the jungle. The top few steps were relatively clear of thick plants, making it much easier for Elorie to find a proper staircase. They climbed up the equivalent of about three stories, Soren guessed, and then found themselves face to face with what Elorie had called the temple house.

She and Tanden cautiously walked into it, but Soren turned to look back the way they had come.

Far below them, the straight canal cut through the jungle. The two pyramids on either side of the canal just reached above the jungle treetops, slightly shorter than the main one they were standing on. Further in the distance, parts of the ruined city could be seen poking between trees.

Soren tried to imagine the area cleared of the jungle. Tried to imagine people living there. Regular people, with regular lives. The same sorts of hopes and goals he had. He wondered if there had been anyone as spectacular and complex as Tanden.

And as he wondered, he heard Tanden's voice. A sort of hushed shout, like he was trying to whisper and call at the same time. "Soren! Come here!"

Soren hurried after the others. The inside of the temple house looked very much like the one they had visited in Balagaya, with one huge difference.

The monkeys.

There were at least three of them, perched near the ceiling, staring down at them. But Soren suspected there were more, hidden from sight. Even though they were fairly small animals, Soren stepped closer to Tanden protectively.

"Do you have any food in that bag?' Tanden asked quietly, without looking away from the monkeys.

"Yes."

Tanden opened his hand. Soren reached into his bag, pulled out one of the pieces of flat bread he had packed, and placed it in Tanden's hand. Tanden stepped closer to the monkey and stretched up his hand.

For a long moment, nobody moved. Then the smallest monkey, maybe a baby, curiously climbed lower. It reached for the bread slowly, its human-like eyes glued to Tanden. The moment its fingers brushed the bread, it grabbed the whole piece and scurried away. The other monkeys started chattering as they all tore up the bread, sniffing and inspecting it.

One of the monkeys bit off a piece and chewed it. The thoughtful look on its face was very human.

They watched the monkeys play with the bread for a little longer, but then the monkeys dropped it and climbed out a hole in the ceiling of the temple house.

"I guess they don't like bread," Tanden said, laughing. Then he turned to the painting on the far wall. It seemed to be Axmazi once again, standing in a red river. Behind her, a step pyramid was surrounded by a red sky. "It would be nice to have a way to record these paintings," he said. "Just so we can remember them."

"I can draw them," Ara offered.

Tanden smiled at him. "I would appreciate that, Ara. Thank you."

Ara's returning smile was a little shy, but pleased.

"You haven't even seen the view yet," Soren said. "Come on." He took Tanden's hand and led him back outside. The other three followed.

The sun was starting to set, Soren realized, because their pyramid was casting a shadow on the canal below. The effect from below would be incredible, with the sun setting behind the huge pyramid. Suddenly the painting inside made a bit more sense.

"This is beautiful," Tanden said softly.

"If we climb down fast enough, we might see the sunset behind the pyramid," Soren said. "Like the red sky in the painting."

Tanden looked up, probably only just realizing how late it was in the day. "Good point."

"And," Jale added, "We probably don't want to climb down in the dark."

Tanden nodded. "That's an even better point."

***

They set up camp close to the water. Elorie strongly suggested they sleep in shifts to keep an eye out for animals. And since nobody wanted to stay up alone, they divided in half as best they could. Tanden, Soren and Ara would take the first shift, while Jale and Elorie took the morning shift.

After eating, the women settled down to sleep by the crackling fire. The men moved a little way away. Close enough to keep watch, but far enough to not bother the ladies with their whispering.

Soren leaned back on a smooth piece of rubble, his legs stretched out in front of him. Tanden sat closer to the canal's edge, dangling his legs over the water. After a moment of indecision, Ara quietly settled down next to Soren.

"Captain, be careful," Soren whispered. He draped an arm over Ara's shoulders, inviting him to snuggle closer. Ara did so happily.

"Hmm," Tanden hummed in reply. He was silent for a moment, staring down at the water. The flickering fire lit up his right half. His rolled up sleeves exposed the long scar that ran down his right forearm.

"Captain?"

Tanden glanced over his shoulder. He didn't react to the way Ara was pressed against Soren, which either meant that he didn't care, or he was too distracted thinking about something else. Or possibly both, Soren thought.

"I'm sorry about the sword."

"Oh." Tanden shrugged, turning back to the water.

"Why are you way over there?" Soren asked.

"I like water."

"Captain."

Tanden laughed quietly, shaking his head. "I'm just... imagining all of this. When it was a city." He pushed himself to his feet and moved to join them, getting comfortable on Soren's other side. "I started traveling because I wanted to learn about every culture, speak every language, try local foods. I guess the idea of a whole culture being gone never occurred to me. It's a lot to think about."

"Aye," Soren agreed.

"But I suppose quietly thinking isn't the best way to keep myself awake, is it? Do you think Jale would throw a rock at me if we—"

"Aye, probably," Soren interrupted. "You're very vocal."

"I can be quiet," Tanden said. Then, when Ara laughed, Tanden sat forward to get a better look at him. "You too?"

Ara shrugged helplessly. "Soren's right."

Tanden smiled good naturedly. "Fine. I'm the problem." He lay down abruptly, and rested his head on Soren's lap. Above them, the sky was clear of clouds, sparkling with millions of stars. "I wonder if they had constellations. Or maybe they thought the stars were deities."

"We have constellations in Tallen Tiya," Ara said quietly. "But the stars are different here. I never thought the sky would change."

Tanden nodded. "They're all different. But look, there's an elephant." He pointed, waving his hand as he traced a design only he could make out. "See it?"

Soren tried to see it, but there were so many stars that it was impossible. "No."

"You're hopeless." Tanden clasped his hands over his stomach. "What do you think Ivern and the lads are up to?"

Soren reached for Tanden's hands, linking their fingers together. "I'm sure they're fine."

"Of course they're fine. Ivern can keep everyone in line," Tanden said. "It's too bad we couldn't bring them all here to see this."

"Aye," Soren agreed. They were lucky most of the crew wasn't as interested in seeing the sights as they were. "We couldn't have fit many more men on the Waterborne, anyway. But maybe we could stay in Danilaex a few extra days, to let Jerios and some of the Deoran lads come see."

"That's a good idea," Tanden agreed. He was still staring up at the stars, his fingers absentmindedly toying with Soren's. "I'm glad you came, Ara. There's something about you and Jale, being from so far North, that makes me glad you're both here seeing this with us. Sometimes I think the whole world would be a better place if everyone learned at least a bit about the countries around them."

"That's probably true," Soren said.

Ara nodded. "It would be. It's surprising how different people can be."

"But what happens next?" Soren asked.

Tanden's eyes flickered to him, then back to the stars. "Next? We'll follow the river to the Alvan Bay, and then sail around the Southern coast, I think. And back up. We'll be able to visit Cratia and Staedin properly by then, because I'll be able to speak to people. Then back up North, to take Ara and Jale home to Till."

Soren knew all that. He hadn't meant the question the way Tanden had interpreted it. "After all that, where are we going next? There are no more countries."

Tanden inhaled slowly, very much stalling. Soren knew it was an uncomfortable question. He knew, without Tanden having ever told him, that the idea of running out of new places to visit was a scary one for Tanden. Tanden's life was a series of journeys and plans, constantly moving forward. What would he do, when there was nothing brand new to strive for?

After a moment, Tanden spoke, still staring up at the stars. "Our continent isn't the only one."

"We can't cross the Storm Sea. It's too dangerous."

"What's that?" Ara asked quietly.

Tanden waved his right hand dismissively. "It isn't real."

"Aye, it is," Soren said. "Further West than the island of Crele, the sea becomes so rough and dangerous that it can't be safely sailed through."

"People get through. We got through." He patted his own chest. "Four hundred years ago, Teltans got through. That's where we came from. And you." He reached up to poke Soren's chest. "Crelans are from the Old World, too. Just a century or so earlier. That's the current theory, at least."

"Nobody crosses the Storm Sea twice," Soren said. It was an old Crelan proverb, but not one that needed to be said very often. Crelans knew to avoid the Storm Sea. "That's why nobody ever went back to the Old World."

"Hmm. We could, though."

"And we would never come back," Soren said. "Even if we were lucky enough to survive the first crossing. No, Tanden. Look at me." He slipped his left hand from Tanden's fingers and cupped his chin, gently making Tanden turn. "I will follow you up and down our coast, through rivers, across land. I will do all of that happily. And every moment of it, I'll know how lucky I am to spend so much time with you. But I will not let you throw yourself, and our crew, at the Storm Sea."

Tanden sat up, pushing away his hand. "You're being superstitious." He started to stand, but Soren caught his forearm.

"No, I'm not. It's old knowledge. Crelans know the ocean. You respect the knowledge and expertise of other cultures. Respect mine."

Tanden froze, his whole body going tense. "That's not... I didn't mean that."

"That's what you said."

Tanden didn't move, but his posture changed as tension left his shoulders. He spoke to the jungle instead of turning around. "What am I supposed to do if there's nothing left to see? Just be a merchant? Trading between the same cities, the same people, forever? I can't do that."

"We can explore more on land." Soren gave Tanden's arm a gentle tug. "We're not done just because you've already set foot on every country."

"I know. You're right." Tanden turned and shuffled closer. "I'm sorry about trivializing the Storm Sea. I wasn't trying to be rude, I just... Not being able to look forward to a new country scares me, more than almost anything."

Soren nodded. "I know that. But you'll never run out of new things to learn."

On his other side, Ara spoke up tentatively. "If you really get bored, you can come back here and try to translate that old language."

Tanden laughed, shaking his head. "I'm not smart enough for that." The comment cheered him up enough that he lay down once more, resting his head on Soren's thigh. "Although, it would be fascinating, wouldn't it? Too bad we can't simply ask Axmazi. Or any of the other gods."

The conversation hit a natural lull then. It wasn't long before Soren realized that Ara, snuggled under his arm, had fallen asleep. Tanden was still staring at the stars, but his eyes had the sort of glassy, distant look of someone deep in thought.

Soren gave his hand a squeeze, then leaned his head back against the stone. It had been a long time since his last night watch on the Wanderlust, but he was no stranger to staying awake.

***

Jale shook Soren awake the next morning. After a quick breakfast, they climbed back aboard the Waterborne and started to head along the left side of the canal. It went around the base of the main pyramid like a moat, before connecting with the right-hand branch and continuing on as one canal.

For such a large structure, the pyramid quickly disappeared into the jungle as they sailed away. Soren was struck with the strange melancholy that he had last felt when leaving Esler Tigo, the city in Tallen Tiya where they had overwintered with Jale. Leaving an amazing place, when he suspected he would never see it again, was sad. There was no way around the feeling.

The trip back to Danilaex went smoothly. The further they were from the ancient city, the better maintained the canal was—or maybe, the less affected by the earthquake. Either way, they made the trip in just one day, and sailed into the lake before nightfall.

The Wanderlust was anchored exactly where they had left her, perfectly reflected in the still lake water beneath her.

Tanden immediately noticed a change. "Ivern fixed the flagpole."

He certainly had. The West Draulin and Zianna flags flew from the main mast, fluttering cheerfully in the evening breeze.

No matter where they went, or how long they might travel on land, the Wanderlust would always be home. Soren was glad to see her again.